


Fire

by Misedejem



Category: Bravely Default (Video Game) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, angst and self hate, spoilers for up to the end of chapter 4 of bravely second, there is absolutely no happiness in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13975917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misedejem/pseuds/Misedejem
Summary: All ten of those people had something buried deep in their thoughts that they would rather not think about. So they kept them hidden, put on a brave face, and went about their lives like everything was okay.But Anne was oh so curious to learn what those somethings were.





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a companion piece for a painting I did a couple of weeks ago. I've always imagined that Anne is the type of person who would prey on the Empire's weaknesses to keep them in line, and that's what I was thinking about for both of those pieces. It was quite a bit more painful to write this though.

I see fire in those eyes! How do I put it? They’ve a strong sense of duty. Like whatever you start, you’ll always see through, no matter what!

It’s why I know I can trust you. You’re the type of person who will keep going, no matter how many times he’s taken down. You’re the kind of human who looks at the world, sees the hell it has become, and wants to make it better, even after it’s slighted you so many times. Because you see your own failings every time you consider what your family has done, and you know that you would never be able to live with the guilt if you let your father’s victims clean up his mess, would you? And every time your resolve begins to fail, you just need to look back on everything you’ve done and realise that it’s far too late to turn back now. I mean, at this point, you’re not really much better than they are, right? Is that why you wear that mask? Ah, I understand now. You hide your face because you can’t bring yourself to look at it, knowing it’s become the face of a monster.

*

You’re an interesting one. At first, I thought it was just survivors guilt that drives you, but no… At this point I think it’s just because you don’t want to feel like such a failure anymore. You failed to protect your family, after all. You thought that maybe you should have died along with them, but you failed to do that as well. And now, over and over, you try everything you can to bring them back, to make up for your failings, but you can’t do it. It causes you so much pain, watching the things you’ve made suffer and die because you want to play god and create life, but you’re just not good enough to do it. I’ve seen you go days without sleep, tearing your hair out over those books of yours. You poor thing… You put on this façade, hiding your face, throwing away your name, speaking with another’s voice, because it’s the only way you can bear to face the day, knowing that the you that survived that attack all those years ago is too weak and helpless to be of use to anyone.

*

You might be the hardest to read. You’re always so… vivacious. It’s overwhelming to be around you. It’s kinda impressive to see someone who isn’t even a person so full of life. I wonder, does that ever get to you? The fact that you only exist because somebody wanted so badly to bring back someone she actually cares about? Oh, I get it. That’s why you’re so devoted to her. It’s because you know that if you don’t prove you’re worth something, she’s only going to see you as a symbol of her own uselessness, isn’t it? I mean, you’re a _failed_ experiment. But I guess you retain something from who you were, or I guess who you were meant to be, so that’s something. You have a personality and memories, so you weren’t entirely pointless. Only now, the hatred and fear that all those people felt when you were human is a hundredfold. Now you’re a creature who defies all nature. Not only are you terrifying, difficult to talk to, completely out of your depth, a danger to others and so many other awful things, but you’re also a living incarnation of how _not_ to use the worst kinds of power. What’s it like to exist knowing that you are literally emblematic of mankind’s greatest mistakes?

*

 _You’re afraid,_ aren’t you? I mean, it’s easy to see by how much you cling to the people here - desperate for them to like you -  that you’re afraid of what’s going to happen if they decide they don’t. I understand why. In the past, you’ve been nothing but a nuisance, a common stray that people only tolerate because they don’t have it in them to kill something as pathetic as you. Now, someone offers you a hand and a home, and you really don’t want to let go. Finally, you’ve found people who accept you for what you are, and for the first time in so long, you have a family. Except… You remember what happened with your last family, don’t you? You failed your mother. You couldn’t be what she wanted you to be, so she abandoned you, and every single time you slip up now, you know that this new family are just edging closer and closer to dropping you like she did. But you keep messing up, don’t you? You just want to laze about and be fawned over, but you know that’s not what your purpose here is, so every time you end up slacking off, because it’s not something you can help, you end up making people angry. And before you know it, they’ll have you back in that box in the desert, wishing you were dead.

*

And as for you _…_  Well, to be honest, you’re so insufferable that most people would rather just forget you even exist. You know that, right? The only reason you’re even here is because you’re good at one thing, and that one thing isn’t exactly a desirable trait, is it? Who on earth is going to care about a girl who is only good at killing things? If that? Failing to kill that boy really threw you off your game, didn’t it? People praised you for trying, but you could hear the disappointment in their voices, as the last hope the people who trusted you had in you died. At what point will this one boon of yours become a burden, like all your other qualities have? You’re too scary, too vulgar, too clingy, too obsessive, too much of a let-down in everything that you do. And you wonder why nobody loves you? Why your superiors keep you far, far away from them? It’s because you take advantage of people’s kindness and aren’t good enough to give anything in return.

*

I’ve really enjoyed seeing how _you’ve_ changed. I mean, you’ve completely broken down, haven’t you? It’s hilarious to see how far you’ve fallen! You managed to make people believe you were actually _that_ arrogant for a long time though, so I suppose I have to hand it to you there, but now the cracks are starting to show and finally you’re showing the world your true colours. You pretend to be so full of yourself, because you need to kid yourself that you’re worth a damn, even though you know you aren’t. You try to love yourself because who else will? Once everybody who admires you realises what kind of person you really are, they’ll stop devoting their affections towards you and leave you all alone. Ah, I see. That’s why you push everyone away. Loss hurts less when neither party cares about the other. You were preparing yourself for this moment all along. Aww, but it didn’t work, did it? I mean, you weren’t strong enough to stop yourself falling for her and getting hurt when she left you behind. And it’s destroying you. You can’t keep up this façade much longer, can you? Pretty soon you’ll have to accept the truth. You’re not perfect at all. You hate yourself, and everybody else hates you too.

*

You’re the result of decades of remorse pressing in on you from all sides until you lost everything that made you who you were. It’s not like you figuratively died with half the world’s population or anything though, more like you were reshaped. You’re still the man who killed fifty percent of all human life on this planet because of his own misgivings, and then because of his overwhelming anger and guilt. Only now you’re a twisted version of that man, driven far, far beyond breaking point by his own regret. You’re so horrifying that it’s a wonder anybody can even call you a human. Why on earth are you even still alive? To atone for what you did? You know that isn’t possible. You’ve hurt so many people that you could go back and undo it all a thousand times and you still wouldn’t be absolved. Just look at your son. You trapped him in that metal prison because you couldn’t bear to accept that you killed him because you were careless. Was making that poor boy suffer once not enough? Was anything you’ve done since that awful day worth it at all?

*

It’s obvious that you’re having a hard time coming to terms with your situation. Is it reminding you of that time all those years ago, when the people you thought could make this world a better place resorted to violence and murder to have their way? Like then, all you can do now is watch, wide eyed, as the awful people you’ve allied yourself with wreak havoc everywhere they go, doing all the things you resent about this world. You can’t bear to see it, so you try to police them, and act like you’re better than them in the hopes that it will make you feel better about everything they’re doing, but at the end of the day you know that as long as you’re their ally, you are just as guilty as they are. There’s blood on your hands now, and you see it every time you stop to consider yourself, a holy man in white robes spattered with red. And the worst part… Well, lately you’ve realised you’re becoming complacent. You’ve finally realised that killing the boy might be a necessary evil. And the very thought is causing so much conflict in you that it’s tearing you apart.

*

I’ve always wondered if you’re happy with what you are. I mean, it must suck, being stuck like that until somebody puts you to rest. You can’t grow up, you can’t feel, you can’t smell or taste. Isn’t that what makes someone human? And you’ll never forget what it’s like to die. It hurt a lot, didn’t it? It was the most terrifying thing a person could go through. But, even though you know it’s his fault, you can’t bring yourself to hate him? I wonder… You know, you’ve been really determined lately. Everybody else, they’ve kind of deflated, but you’re still going strong. Is it because you know the pain everybody else went through when they died? Is it because you know how much that girl hurt your daddy when she killed him? You alone know how much they all suffered, so it does make sense that you want revenge so badly. Hmm… Thinking about it, it’s not weird at all that you don’t resent this form you take now, because with it, you can live on. The others won’t ever have that. I totally get it now! You feel guilty! You’re guilty that your father gave you a second chance at life, and now he’s dead and there’s nothing, nothing at all, that you can do for him in return.

*

And finally we have you. You’re the angriest one of them all aren’t you? Does it frustrate you that you haven’t been able to avenge your parents’ deaths yet? How many times have you been unable to kill him? It’s really starting to make you mad, isn’t it? Why can’t you have your way? Why can’t he see your reasons? Why can’t you shake this little part of you that keeps telling you that _this isn’t what you want_? Maybe the reason you haven’t had your revenge is because you can’t do it? After all this time, you just can’t bring yourself to hurt him, because every time you try you remember that he wants to be your friend. You’re weak. You’re letting feelings get in the way of life or death. You’re letting a brief friendship take precedence over the deaths of innocent people. What kind of selfish person would do that? You’re losing your drive, you know, and if you lose that then you’re useless. Thousands of people, including your parents, and the man who was like one when you had nobody else, all would have died in vain if you can’t murder one stupid, weak, unimportant little boy. And yet, when the time comes, you know you won’t be able to swing your blade.

*

And yet, despite it all, there was still fire in their eyes. They hated themselves. Hated the world. But they still grasped onto this one tiny lifeline I gave them, and they rose to incredible heights to try and do something to make this hell they called home a better place.

But at the end of the day, they were my puppets.

And you know the thing about puppets is they only look like they have free will until you look closely. Then, when you see the strings, you’ll know that everything they do is down to their puppeteer.

Oh, and another thing about puppets… You see, like most things in this world, when you expose them to fire, they can’t contain it.  So in the end, they burn…

And they turn to ash.


End file.
